


Spider-Man: Symbiosis [ON HOLD]

by Smol_FiestBean



Category: Spider-Man (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Best Friends, Childhood Friends, Daily Bugle, Family Feels, Funny, Gen, Identity Reveal, Marvel Universe, Near Death Experiences, Nerdiness, Peter Parker has the Venom Symbiote, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Venom Symbiote (Marvel), Science Experiments, Sick Character, SpideyFic, Superheroes, V-252 - Freeform, Worry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22126948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smol_FiestBean/pseuds/Smol_FiestBean
Summary: New York can always use another superhero. However, Spider-Man finds himself fighting for his life when the newest "hero" addition turns out to be J. Jonah Jameson with an agenda. Jameson proves formidable, leaving the teen hero brutally defeated and one the verge of death. To save him, Peter's best friend Harry Osborne steps in and is forced to re-introduce one of Spider-Man's old enemies--Venom.Now Peter Parker has to learn to live life with an extra voice inside his head. One that doesn't agree with Peter continuing as Spider-Man during his recovery period. If life wasn't hard enough fighting villains behind the back of his aunt and best friend, he now has to sneak around his own back too.
Comments: 37
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter One

"Peter, did you make sure to pick up milk? And eggs? Oh, what about the cookies. I need those for the Bookclub meeting I'm hosting tomorrow." 

Swinging an arm out, Peter shot another web at the nearest building. Glancing down he looked into the grocery bag flapping at his side. "I got it, don't worry Aunt May! I'll be home soon."

"Alright then, be careful."

"Always," Peter called, ending the call quickly. He glanced back at the bag. "Please tell me I remembered the cookies," he mumbled to himself. Swinging past the next building, he leaped, landing on top with ease. Setting down the bag, he rummaged through for a quick look. "Eggs...Milk...Flour...Candy...where are the cookies? C'mon, please be in there..." Squinting, he groaned and smacked his forehead. "No cookies. Of course, there are no cookies!" He grabbed the back up and stood, turning around. Sighing, he shot a web back in the direction he'd just come from and leaped off the edge. 

"Don't forget the cookies, Parker," he muttered to himself as he arced back up and swung forward. Biting his lip he shot a second web and swung back down to the side of the grocery store building. His eyes trailed upwards to the Daily Bugle building a few blocks away and he slumped forward as Jameson's face appeared.

"That Spider-Man got three people trapped in a subway car during yesterday's attack! He's going to wreak more havoc than he's worth, that menace!"

Dropping the bag of groceries on the ground, Peter tugged off his mask and slipped it into his backpack. He slipped on a shirt and pants over his costume, depositing gloves and boots into his backpack before zipping it up. His tired eyes trailed back up to the mega screen. "I know," he muttered, jutting his lower lip into a soft pout. "I'm the worlds greatest menace. It's not like I _saved_ those civilians from a rampaging supervillain. Again." He slung his backpack on and gathered the grocery bag up. His hand slipped into his pocket to ensure he had all the change he needed. Two dollars left. 

_I hope that's enough for cookies._ He turned and walked to the entrance. Pausing as Jameson's rant continued he glanced back up at the screen. "I'd love to see you try it someday," he called back. "Maybe then you'll understand." With a sigh, Peter turned and slipped inside. He hunched forward, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he walked back to the bakery. 

"Cookies...cookies..." he murmured. His eyes skimmed the shelves as he chewed his lower lip. "Cookies!" Eyes lighting up, he scanned the prices and grabbed the largest cheapest package. With a quick glance over the label, he shoved them under his arm and jogged up to the checkout. Tapping one foot, he waited as patiently as possible in the crawling line. His phone buzzed. Fishing it out, he glanced down and balked briefly when he saw Aunt May's name on the caller ID. Grimacing, he accepted the call and slowly lifted the phone to his ear.

"Yes?" he asked, instinctively wincing. 

"Oh, there you are. I just wanted to see if you were still at the store. I forgot something. If you're on your way back that's alright!" she chirped, the sound of dishes clanking in the background.

Peter slipped out of line and quietly apologized to the peopel behind him. "No, I'm still here. What do you need?"

"Just some punch. Did I send you with enough to get that?" she asked. "If not, don't worry about it."

Pulling out the two dollars, Peter frowned. He reached for his own wallet. He could cover it. "I've got plenty. Don't worry about it, I'll grab that and be back soon. Love you."

"Love you too! Stay safe out there." She hung up.

Peter stuffed the phone in his pocket and looked around. "Punch. That shouldn't be too hard to find..." he walked to the back, eyes scanning for drinks. Wandering up and down asiles, he eventually stopped and groaned. "Of course it would be difficult to find. It's the Peter Parker luck," he grumbled. Turning around, he found an employee and meekly approached, putting on a thin smile. "Excuse me...you wouldn't happen to know where your punch is?"

The man glanced back at him only for a second and then turned back to his task. One hand lifted and he pointed to the back. "Asile four, look at the top."

"Thank you, sir!" Peter called as he turned and sprinted back there. Slowing down, he walked slowly, eyes glued to the top shelf. "There!" he stopped and rose on his toes, grabbing the packets of punch off the top. Frowning he glanced down. "What flavor did she want? Did she say? Uhhh, most people like grape. That should work." He stuffed the two packets under his arm with the cookies and headed back to the front.

Humming through the line, he paid up for the items and then headed back out. Throwing a passing glance at the alleyway, his hand went to the strap of his backpack but he shook his head. Peter Parker could take public transport for once. He glanced at his wrists. _I'm getting low on web fluid anyway, and that stuff isn't cheap. I need to conserve it._ Looking up, he walked up to the bus stop. Rocking on his feet, he waited around until the bus pulled up. Hopping on, Peter swiped his metro card and took a seat with the gab of groceries settled in his lap. His eyes turned to the window. 

There Jameson was, his face plastered on that screen day and night. Peter's shoulders slumped as he leaned against the glass and tried to read the headline. The bus took a corner obscuring it, though. Peter looked away at the floor, leaning his head against one hand. "No doubt it's just something about how terrible Spider-man is," he muttered. "Why would today of all days be the one he changes his mind?" He exhaled deeply and hunched over the groceries slightly. His fingers toyed with his phone before he pulled it out and checked the time. 4:56pm. Aunt May would likely have dinner ready soon as he got home. That left him several hours after dinner to finish up his homework and tweak last weeks class project. 

Lifting his head, Peter gazed out at the street. Movement caught his eye. He perked up. _What's that? A robber? Explosion? New super villain?_ His eyes widened, then settled back into a drowsy stare as he saw it was just a couple of birds taking off. He slumped back into his seat and stretched his neck. Spidey hadn't had much to do this week beyond yesterdays small incident--thought Jameson made it sound worse than it had been. He knew he should be glad for all the time he got to spend on school, with Aunt May, even with Harry now that he was back from Europe. Still, he couldn't deny the lonely pang in his chest when he thought of Spider-Man. Peter shook his head and looked at his phone again. "Quit sulking. Enjoy it," he reminded himself as he opened up the chat. He clicked on Harry's name.

> _Hey, meet at Joe's tonight? I'd love to get your thoughts on my project for class._

He watched the dots at the bottom as Harry replied. A rare smile stole over his face when his friend's reply popped up.

> _Does the great Peter Parker actually have free time? Sure, man. 6pm?_

Laughing, Peter typed back hastily. 

> _We'll see how soon Aunt May lets me off the hook. I might have to wash dishes._

> _Hah, well lemme know when you're on your way. I'll wait up._

Grinning, Peter nodded and answered with a simple _Thx, see you there._ before closing out his chat and sliding his phone back into his pocket. The bus ground to a halt and he got up, grabbing the bag of groceries. With a wave to the driver, he stepped off and walked slowly up to his house. 

Turning the doorknob, he poked his head inside with a smile. "I'm back. What's for dinner?" 

Humming filled the air as he closed the door behind himself and wandered towards the kitchen. He walked in on Aunt May dancing around the stove with a spatula in hand. She smiled wide when she saw him and finished her slow turn. "I made Spaghetti. Do you mind putting up the groceries, Pete?"

He shook his head and opened up the bag. "Not one bit. Here are those cookies for tomorrow, and the punch," he held out the two packages and then hesitated, looking down. "I uh, didn't know what flavor you wanted for the punch so I got grape?"

Aunt May cast a quick glance that way and smiled. "No worries, grape is perfect." Her eyes settled on the cookies and she frowned, her brow furrowing mildly. "Oh, uh, Peter. One of the ladies has a severe peanut allergy. I think I forgot to tell you..."

His eyes fell to the package. Peanut butter cookies. He mentally smacked himself and drew them back. "Oh, uh, I'll get some new ones! Sorry."

She waved it off and turned around to stir the sauce. "Oh don't worry about it. I didn't tell you, so how could you have known?" she laughed, her voice carrying lightly through the air. Peter relaxed a little and nodded. He grabbed the receipt up, though. "I can still go get new ones..."

"No, no. I'll do it. That's my fault. You go get washed up for dinner." She turned and walked over to grab a towel, pausing only to press a kiss to his head. Peter shrank in on himself but grinned and nodded. 

"Yes, Aunt May."

"Shoo, shoo," she said and waved him off.

Peter turned and hurried up the steps to his room. He shrugged off his backpack and jacket, grabbing out a longsleeved shirt. Even Aunt May could probably smell the stench of his suit underneath here. He changed and peeled it off, throwing it into the laundry basket in the back of his closet. Quietly, he hunted around for his other set. Then his eyes fell to the hamper and he groaned. "Forgot to wash it again. Such is the plight of the superhero." He grabbed out the less gross of the two and wrinkled his nose. "I've got so much time. Ought to at least give this thing a proper wash." Stuffing the less rancid set in his backpack, he grabbed a couple of his papers and his computer and packed it for after dinner.

"Peter! Dinner!"

Turning, he zipped the back and stowed it by the door. Then he ran down the stairs. "Coming!" He hesitated on the bottom step and looked around. How many months had it been since he'd eaten a proper meal instead of scouring leftovers? He could barely remember. The kitchen smelled heavenly, though. Such a change of pace from microwaved meals eaten after Aunt May was long asleep.

"Peter!"

He shook his head and walked into the kitchen. "Right here, Aunt May."

She grinned and carried the dishes to the table. Peter came right behind her, picking up to help out. He set down the plates and silverware before taking his seat at the table. Aunt May settled down and smiled. "I can't remember the last time we ate together. This is nice," she said.

He smiled as well. "I was just thinking the same thing." 

Laughing, Aunt May started to spoon out spaghetti onto his plate. "Well now eat up, then. Can't have you looking like skin and bones your whole life." 

Nodding with a wide smile, Peter picked up his fork. "Yes ma'am," he laughed. 

\-----

Following dinner, Peter helped wash up before running up to his room. He shot a hasty text to Harry that he was coming and checked the time. Fifteen minutes late. He slung his backpack on and rushed downstairs again. "No later than usual," he muttered with a half-chuckle.

"I'm going to meet Harry at Joe's!" he called, then rushed out the door. Sprinting down the sidewalk, he made it into town. His gaze averted and his smile fell to a scowl as the glow of the mega screen lit up his face. That annoying voice still yelled slander at Spider-Man. Peter tried to shrug it off and just high-tailed it over to Joe's. He left the tension at the door as he walked in, though, spotting Harry in their usual spot near the front. Harry turned, waving. Peter smiled and returned the gesture. He walked up and threw his backpack on the bar as he slid into his seat.

"Even on an empty schedule you can't seem to get anywhere on time," Harry laughed. He socked Peter's shoulder lightly. "How's it been? For you and the...arachnid."

Rubbing his shoulder, Peter leaned forward on his elbows and shrugged. He closed his eyes with a grin. "Ah, you know. Nothing much. School. Villains. Life. The usual."

Harry took a long slurp of his drink and bobbed his head slowly.

"How was Europe, though?" Peter asked as he fished his computer out of his backpack. He set it up on the bar and glanced at Harry. His friend shrugged a bit, his eyes going distant for a second before his trademark charm returned. He finished off his drink. 

"Oh you know, business meetings, stocks, trade, the usual."

They laughed together. Peter clapped Harry on the back. "It's good to have you back. I missed you."

"Missed you too," Harry agreed. He leaned forward with a sly glint in his eyes. "Say, I notice that Spidey seems to have had a little more time on his hands this week. What's that all about?"

Peter lifted his hands and looked out the window. "Can't say. It's weird, though, having time off. I hardly know what to do with myself."

A hand cuffed him over the head lightly and Harry chuckled. "You're supposed to use that time to relax, dummy."

"I know, I know," Peter drawled. He laughed and ducked his head. "I think I've been to busy catching up on all the life I normally miss!" 

Harry shook his head and leaned back, stretching. "You are weird Parker. Thankfully it's a good kind of weird, cause I wouldn't have my best friend any other way."

"Thank you?" Peter quipped. He got a knowing grin back from his best friend as he typed up a couple of searches on his computer. He hunched forward and finally turned it Harry's direction. "Anyway. If you're not too tired, I did want to pick your brain for my project mods. Care to take a look?"

"Care to? I'd love to," Harry said. He leaned over and grabbed the computer, staring down at the screen. His eyes widened as his brows lifted. His mouth formed a bit of a "o" of surprise and wonder before he looked up. "Pete, this is cool! Where'd you get this idea?"

"Oh you know, just popped into my head...during a mission." Peter rubbed the back of his neck and sheepishly smiled. "Like usual."

Harry nodded, his eyes gluing themselves to the screen again. "This has real potential. Man, you'd better get an A on this thing."

"Thanks, that means a lot," Peter said. He opened his eyes and glanced outside, reached for his untouched drink. His eyes skimmed the skyline, his gut suddenly twisting. Smile falling, he gripped the drink tighter and searched for the source of his unease. He tried to reach over to get Harry's attention but his friend was too engrossed in the blueprints. Peter rose out of his seat somewhat, spotting a small dot racing through the sky towards the coffee shop. It stopped short, though, hovering over the building across the street. Peter's finger's dug into the sides of his cup. He squinted, but could only make out the faintest outline of what appeared to be some form of suit. The hair on the back of his neck suddenly stood up on end, sending a tingling sensation through his whole body. He started.

"Harry, get down!" Turning he grabbed his friend's jacket, hauling him back. "Everyone get down!" He slung Harry forward, lunging for the back of the restaurant as he heard the whistle of something small outside the window. Time stopped. Everything stopped. He felt the air go dead inside his stomach and lungs. Glancing back, he caught sight of the first fracture in the wall. His eyes widened. Then everything came rushing back, expanding around him. The impact wave hit him square in the chest and threw him back. He gasped, ears ringing. Someone grabbed him up, though.

"Pete, you okay?" Harry worried, hovering over him. 

Peter pushed him away and nodded. He struggled up and pulled off his backpack. His ears still rang, but the figure outside hadn't moved. He made eye contact with Harry and then nodded. His friend understood, and so did he. Finally. The city needed Spider-Man again.

"Go, I'll cover for you," Harry whispered, pushing Peter towards the side exist. Peter nodded and rushed out as everyone else flooded the other direction out of the building. He stumbled outside and tugged at the zippers on his backpack. Glancing up, he tried to keep an eye on the figure as he fished around for his costume. Fabric found his fingers and he tugged out the mask. Jerking it on over his face he looked up as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. The figure was rushing towards the crowd. 

_Go faster!_

He tugged out the costume, trying to get into it as his gaze flickered between the figure and his attempts to change. Then he stopped, one arm still halfway out of the sleeve. His eyes widened as a brand new figure slammed the villain terrorizing the crowd. Silver glinted in the air as the brand new hero turned and roundhouse kicked the villain into the ground. Then he landed carefully, looking up. Peter swallowed, not recognizing the suit-clad hero. Who in the world was this newbie? He glanced down at his own suit, his heart sinking. Maybe New York didn't need Spider-Man today after all.


	2. Chapter Two

_This city might have a new hero, but that won't stop me from helping where I can._ Peter pulled the mask over his head and blinked as the world lit up behind the intricate screen inside his mask. One carefully placed web and he swung from the alleyway, leaving his backpack behind. 

Launching into the dim-lit street, he swung up and came down on the rooftop behind this new super-being. At least, he was pretty sure they were a super-being. His gaze flickered towards the figure hovering midair as they swung another punch at the offending party. He squinted. 

"That's all just tech. Huh, guess they're no more special than half the villains I fight every day." Shrugging, he shot a web at the far building. "At least someone's on my side for once."

Leaping off, he swung down, aiming his heels for the gut of the armor-clad villain tangling with this new hero. "Someone call for the ol' red and blue?" Swooping in, he knocked the villain off their hover-disk and into the far wall before he landed atop the building. Throwing a salute to the new hero, Peter grinned beneath his mask. "Nice to have a helping hand. You the one who's been keeping life quiet for me? If so, let me just say--"

"--You've said enough," the hero snapped. His head turned back, masked with a deep golden helmet. He swiveled around on the rocket boots holding him several feet off the ground and crossed both arms, one over the other. Even in the dark of the evening, his gold and silver appearance was almost blinding. Peter shaded his masked eyes and squinted. 

"You talk too much, Spider-Man. All bark and no bite. It's time you saw how a _real_ hero took care of things." 

Peter started up, throwing out a hand. "Hey--"

The unknown hero just spun around and shot after the escaping Villain. Catching his collar and delivering a deft uppercut, he dropped the amateur super-villain to the ground. Peter grimaced, wincing in his own head at that punch. "That's gonna leave a mark," he murmured, but his eyes followed the hero, his nose wrinkling. The man--Peter assumed--cuffed the villain to the nearby lampstand and stood back as police surrounded the area, lights blaring. Frowning, Peter sank back down into a low crouch. His shoulders sank a couple of inches. "So much for helping..."

Lifting his hand, he glanced around for a good spot to disappear. Then stopped as the gold and silver figure appeared hovering in front of him. His hand retracted and he gulped. "Uh, hi? I didn't catch your name..." chuckling nervously under his breath he waved. Who was this dude? He was on the side of good...but he didn't seem all that nice. His fingers dug into the concrete edge of the roof as his heart pounded in his head. 

"I didn't give it," the hero yelled. "And I'm not your hero buddy. I'm here for you."

Peter's eyes widened. He glanced down, hearing the sound of something powering up inside that man's suit. His eyes returned to meet this strange person's masked face. Backing off, he placed a hand on his chest and hopped down, trying to draw the other hero or villain--he wasn't sure which now--away from the crowds below. "Me?" he laughed softly. "Why...?"

The gold and silver plated figured shot forward, crossing his arms over his chest as he lifted his chin. "Why? Because you're the biggest menace in this city! You're the real villain with all the damage you wreak!" The figure shot forward, lifting his hands. Screaming and screeching filled the air at an unholy decibel.

Peter jumped and leaped off the back of the building, swinging below the sound. He pressed his free hand to his ears, though. "What a big voice you have there my friend!" he yelled back and slung himself into the empty building behind Joe's. He crouched down and peered out of the open window, frowning. One finger traveled to his chin, rubbing at it absently. "Where have I heard those words before?" Squinting he glanced up. There it was in the distance. The mega screen with Jameson spitting the same angry commentary about Spider-Man. Pre-recorded of course.

Peter's eyes widened and he blinked. The figure zoomed by again, looking through the windows with a searchlight now. Peter took his chance as he turned the corner and swung out of the building, crawling to the top. He peeked around the side. "Not to toot my own horn, but I think I came up with a pretty good name for you!" he teased and shot a web past the hero-villain. The man's head snapped around, but Peter was already in motion arcing towards him. He planted his feet square on the man's chest, sending both of them tumbling into the far building. Peter twisted and stuck to the side of the wall, looking down. "I was thinking...Loudmouth. Ya know, like my buddy Jameson over there, who quite obviously hired you."

A low rumbling laugh reverberated off the alleyway walls. Peter squinted down at the new hole where his adversary still laid. He crawled down a foot or so. "Glad to know I'm not the only one with a sense of humor," he joked weakly, trying to draw a response out of the man. His heart pounded in his chest but he kept his sweaty palms pressed to the brick of the wall.

A gold helmeted head appeared from the rubble. With a sputter the rocket boots came back to life, lifting this "Loudmouth" into the air. Peter inched back and crawled back some, shying against the wall as he watched. "You do have a sense of humor, right?" he quipped thinly.

Crackling his knuckles, the figure reached up and detached his helmet with a hiss. "No, Spider-Man. I don't have a sense of humor. Nor did Jameson hire me." The helmet came off, revealing first the thick mustache and seconds later the same thin accusing eyes staring down from the mega screen. "I hired myself. This city cannot tolerate you any longer. Just look at what you've done!" he gestured to the hole in the wall. "You need to be taken down, and no one else will do it!"

Choking up on his own breath, Peter stiffened. "Jameson?" he murmured. "That...wasn't expecting that one. Wow. Well, then, I suppose "Loudmouth" fits you after all." He tried to laugh at his own joke and took the chance to thwip away from the building and towards the street. He turned and ran along the rooftop, glancing back. Jameson zoomed over the top of the building, catching up quickly. Peter ducked as something cracked overhead. The hair on his neck and arms stood up all of a sudden. He tripped back, leaning into the empty air as electricity crackled over him. His eyes widened as he sank back into nothingness. Twisting he shot out a web quickly, swooping over the street. Swallowing dryly he looked back. 

"Get back here you insect!" Jameson bellowed. His suit shimmered with energy as he pursued, pursuing faster. Peter looked dead ahead, eyes scanning the sky-line for somewhere he could hide. He arced up, landed on top of the building and turned to swing off. Again the hair on the nape of his neck went stiff. He spun around only to get smacked with a ball of energy harder than the dodgeballs Flash hit him with at Midtown. The air left his lungs as he stumbled back off the edge of the roof. The world spun, but he got his arm up and shot a hasty web, catching his own fall. Panting, he stumbled into a landing on the opposing roof and doubled over. 

"Arachnid...not insect," he gasped. "I thought journalism was about...accuracy."

"And I thought being a hero was about doing good!" Jameson swooped down, his knee connecting with Peter's gut. Staggering, Peter gasped and tripped back. He scrambled to his feet and ran back a couple of feet before shooting a web at Jameson's boots. If he could ground the man, he could stop him. He got his aim and then hesitated. His eyes lowered to the street. Police, people, press. He swallowed harder. _All eyes are on me...if I make this move. If I take down Jameson..._

Jameson landed on the rooftop, arms crossed with a sly grin. "That's right, Spider-Man. You take me down and the whole world will see you for the menace you are. New York will turn on you."

Peter's heart thumped in his chest. He backed off and lowered his hand. His jaw set underneath his mask. "You set me up," he snapped. "You know I'm not a menace. You've seen footage of me saving people, and yet you're still out to get me. Now you've set me up so there no possible way to win. Why?"

Jameson lifted his hand. Energy crackled at his fingertips. "Because of the damage. The people who live in fear of when you might come swinging into their street wrecking their homes and putting them in danger. Because Spider-Man. No matter how you twist it, you're the villain here." Jameston stepped forward.

Eyes flickering over the crowds, Peter backed up a step. His gut throbbed from where Jameson had kneed him. In fact, his whole body hurt. Not being Spider-Man for a week had him losing his touch. He swallowed a little. If he attacked, Jameson would put him away for life as a villain. If he stayed, Jameson won. Either way, he lost. His eyes flickered around. Something to use? He backed up another step and shook his head. _Science can't save you from this one...you have to think._

His eyes flickered behind him. He could swing into the alleyway and fight Jameson without any eyes. But if he won...they'd all know. His stomach dropped as a cold fist clung to his chest. His skin crawled. He stopped and looked back at Jameson. "This is low, even for you," he sighed in defeat. His eyes lifted a little as Jameson smirked.

"Gotta do whatcha gotta do, kid," Jameson hissed. He slung the ball of energy in Peter's direction. Goosebumps ran under his skin as time slowed. He leaped up and over the crackling energy. _Jameson attacked me. So I have reason to defend myself._ He landed on his feet, turning and slinging a web at Jameson's hand. It stuck and Peter whirled his body around to throw Jameson back, only it didn't move. It grew taught. His eyes backtracked and up the web to where Jameson was-- _Holding it? How?_

Jameson gripped the web. Peter went tense with goosebumps. He jerked back, trying to snap it off. Energy cracked down the strand, hitting the web shooter. Electricity coursed through Peter's body and he jerked harder. The web snapped. 

Shivering with energy, Peter used his working web-shooter and swung off the roof as quickly as possible. His vision faded in and out, though. He let go and fell to the ground, his legs crumbling under him. He whirled around.

"There, that's the menace that tried to attack me! All while I was busy saving these people here," Jameson yelled as he too landed. He stepped forward into the crowd. "Spider-Man has officially shown his true colors."

Body still shaking and shuddering, Peter struggled onto his feet. He looked around, realizing he was in the middle of the onlooking crowd. He backed off, throwing his hands out. "No, I wasn't--"

The crowd drowned him out with angry yells and booing. He turned and tried to run through the people, struggling to get a web to come from his formerly working web shooter. He hissed at the broken tech. "Of course it won't work when I need it," he groaned and ducked a shoe flying his direction. 

"Time to see who this villain really is!" Jameson's voice boomed over the crowd. 

Peter ducked and elbow. Hands were grabbing at him but he jumped, trying to get over the crowd. Aiming, he fired. Nothing from the web shooter. He collapsed back into the crowd and turned. Jameson hovered over everyone, his hands aimed at Peter. Heart racing and body trembling, Peter stopped. He stared back up at Jameson. His eyes saw the impact radius of that electrical blast, though. It would hit hundreds of people, not just him. Jameson didn't know what he was doing. Peter spun around. "Get out! Everyone out!" He darted out of the thick of the crowd, yelling at people. No one moved, except to crowd around him. His breathing came faster. Sweat gathered on his palms and he gazed back as Jameson pursued. The charging electricity was beginning to crackle and pop. Peter's spider-sense crackled on high alert. He broke out of the crowd, sprinting. He could make it. If he could just make that corner--

Someone burst around the corner. A girl in a slow jog. Peter almost collided with her. He heard the searing scream of the energy blast behind him and turned. "No!" Jumping, he threw himself in front of the girl, knocking her back. The ball of energy hit him head-on, absorbed into his chest. Peter screeched, jerking with the overload of electricity. His suit crackled and popped as each and every system failed one by one. He collapsed as well, jerking. The world spun faster, refusing to stop. 

_"Pete!"_

Peter's head slumped to one side. He spotted a blurry figure heading his direction. Then it disappeared. Jameson's faded face filled his vision. Faintly he was aware of being lifted off the ground, his body twitching. Pain began to throb in his head and he closed his eyes. For one agonizing moment, everything felt like it was bursting with energy all at once. His whole body burned. Then the feeling faded into the blinding light behind his eyes. 

\-----

Harry skidded to a halt at the edge of the crowd, panting. He looked up with wide horrified eyes as Jameson lifted Spider-Man--no, Peter--high above the onlooking crowd. The mega-journalist turned around with the same dirty smirk etched under his mustache as he held up Spider-Man like some sort of hard-earned prize. Gloating, he reached for the mask. Harry's heart leaped to his throat, but he could do nothing but reach out to Peter. He couldn't help his friend. His Hobgobling armor was buried far int the laboratories of Oscorp. He would never reach it in time.

"After all this time. After all this terror, we will finally see the face of the menace that has ravage these New York streets for the past two years!" Jameson bellowed. He grabbed the mask and yanked. Harry's stomach lurched with a cold pang as the mask slid off. Peter's head slumped forward, eyes closed. _Is that...blood? No, it can't be._ Harry wanted to run out and yell, but he held back, staying with the roaring crowd behind him. People were riled up, yelling, booing. They didn't even know who it was Jameson held. 

Jameson did, though. Harry's brow furrowed as he saw the Daily Bugle's editor's eyes widen when he looked at Peter's face. His lips curled and he yelped. "Parker!"

Peter didn't move. Harry felt his stomach twisting itself into knots as he stood there on tiptoe fighting every urge in him to run out there. Instead he cupped his hands over his mouth. "You blasted a kid, Jameson! _You're_ the menace here! He's just a teen!" fury burned in Harry's veins as he screamed. He heard the crowd behind him turn. They began yelling, shouting and booing at Jameson. 

"He's a kid! Let him go!"

"You monster, you nearly killed someone's son!" 

Rage crackled in the still air. Harry snarled and glared at Jameson. The journalism mogul's eyes glazed and hardened. He shook his fist at all of them and then just dropped Peter, turning. "Fine, then. Have your teenage menace!" His voice boomed through the crowd as he shot off, running into the night sky. 

Harry finally rushed forward. He skidded, catching Peter with a huffed breath as he took his friend's weight. People tried to crowd him and he glared up. They'd turned on Peter just as much as Jameson. "Get back, all of you!" he hissed. A couple of murmurs and he gained some space. He picked up Peter's head.

"Pete, can you hear me? I need you to answer."

Peter wasn't moving. Harry pressed an ear to his chest, his own heart pounding loud enough in his ears he could barely hear over it. He pressed two fingers below Peter's neck as well. Nothing on either end. His breath hitched and bile fought its way into his mouth. He screwed his eyes shut, grimacing deeply. "No. No. No! I'm not losing you too," he growled. Scooping up Peter, he turned and shouldered his way through the crowd. He bumped the Bluetooth caller on his ear. 

"Hello?"

"Oh, hello, Harry, what is it?"

Harry charged out into the empty street. "Aunt May, I need you to pick me and Pete up outside Joe's. ASAP, please."

"Right, of course! I'll be right there. What's going on?"

Harry glanced down at Peter's placid face and swallowed hard. His heart sank to his stomach and he looked away, up into the sky. He shook his head. _I'm not losing you too._ He vowed. Taking a deep breath, he answered. "Just please, come get us as soon as possible. I'll explain when you get here..."


	3. Chapter Three

"Harry, what in the world is going on?" Aunt May asked. 

Ignoring her shocked stare from the driver's seat, Harry clambered into the backseat and tried to lay the re-masked Peter down carefully. He turned and just waved out the front. "Just go! Back to Oscorp...please, Aunt May."

A thin line crossed her lips and she nodded. "You got it." 

Harry pulled the door shut and the car peeled away from the curb. Harry reached over to slip the buckle over Peter. His brows furrowed into a deep crease as he resisted shaking his friend, again. _I'm gonna fix this, Pete. You're not dying on me too._ He swallowed and gripped the back of Aunt May's seat as they took the corner hard. Her eyes cut to the side in the rearview mirror.

"Alright now, Mister. ETA is five minutes. Talk."

Slouching back, Harry glanced at Peter's masked form and gathered his excuse. "Um. There was a fight. A bad one. I just happened to be there. He was...injured. Needs serious help and I don't think he wants the EMT's figuring out who he is..." he murmured. 

Her eyes narrowed a little. "You know who he is?"

Harry nodded meekly but said nothing about "Spider-Man's" identity as he glanced at his friend again. His brows creased deeper and he heard Aunt May sigh quietly. His gaze snapped back to her.

"Well, I'll admit. You're a good man for helping him. Where's Peter?"

Harry's stomach tightened and he glanced back to prevent her from seeing the flush of fear in his face. "He...stayed behind. Really this was all his idea. He wanted to make sure Spider-Man was safe and all, but he had to go and help people. You know Pete." He chuckled thinly and it trailed off into a sad look across the backseat. He inhaled deeply. _Almost there. Hang in there Pete._

Aunt May was nodding slowly as they skidded around another corner. "That's Peter for you. Well, I'm sure he'll appreciate all you're doing." The car slammed to a halt. "Now c'mon mister, we're getting that man the help he needs."

Harry clambered out quickly and unbuckled Peter. He scooped him up, grunting a little. Then Aunt May grabbed him up by the legs. "I'll help," she said firmly. "Where are we going?"

Scanning the building, Harry tried not to focus on the flips and knots in his stomach as he racked his brain. "Third floor. That's the closest lab I can use. C'mon." He started to move, gripping Peter's shoulder's tight. He hurried as quickly as he and Aunt May could. His palms were sweating cold as the elevator rose slowly. He couldn't feel any signs of life from Peter yet. Last he'd checked his friend still had no pulse. Harry hoped and prayed he simply couldn't detect it. 

The doors pinged open. Harry lunched out, dragging Peter and Aunt May with him. When they reached the door he shifted and scooped Peter up entirely. "Stay here. I'll take it from here. You know...identities and such." He flashed a thin smile with the lie, hoping Aunt May would buy it. She just nodded solemnly and stood outside the door. 

Without a second thought, Harry rushed inside and laid Peter down on the bed inside. He exhaled heavily and then spun around. Energy buzzed under his fingers but his brain lagged. He hesitated. What to do first? _Focus, Harry. Focus. Pete needs you. He's cold, no pulse...he needs a shock._ Harry grabbed one of the glove sets off the wall. Not a defibrillator, but the closest he would get. He slipped them on and hurried over.

"Please wake up..." he murmured and waited for the charge to build. As soon as the light blinked green, he touched the gloves to Peter's chest. Peter's whole body arched in response and slipped back. Harry cursed loudly. He tried again to no avail and threw the gloves aside. His eyes scanned the room again and he reached out for nothing, forcing himself to think. _I'm not a doctor..._ His eyes landed on a small vial. Something he hadn't touched in ages since he'd gotten his own sample. It wasn't much...but. He swallowed hard as he watched the writhing black substance rise and fall against the glass vial. His stomached turned. He looked back at Peter and the bile in his stomach threatened to rise to his throat. 

The door slid open. 

"Harry Theophilus Osborn!" Aunt May charged in, her face steaming red. "Let me see my nephew!"

Harry backed up under her watery gaze. He pressed his hands against the cold metal of the table, his chest tightening. "Peter's not--"

Her lip curled and he stopped. Aunt May shoved her phone into his face, showing the footage Harry had watched play out live only a few minutes before. J. Jonah Jameson revealing Spider-Man as Peter Parker. Harry's stomach sank and he shrank back.

"Don't you lie to me," Aunt May hissed. She pressed past him and grabbed Peter up into her arms, wasting no time in jerking off the mask. She buried her nose in Peter's ruffled brown hair, hugging him. "I had no idea...all those nights..."

"Aunt May, careful," Harry whispered. He slipped around her and snatched up the vial, gripping it in his fist. He slipped his fist into his pocket, walking around to the other side. "He really took a beating. I need too--"

"--Harry, he's not breathing!" Aunt May yelped, jerking back and then hugging Peter closer again. "Peter, can you hear me?"

"I know..." Harry looked down and curled his free hand into a fist as well. Cold sweat coated his palms but he took slow breaths. _Focus on fixing this._ "I know, Aunt May. That's why I brought him here. I don't know if a doctor can fix him but I have something that might help."

Her eyes rose to his, unnaturally cold. "What?" she asked thinly. "Will it save him?"

Lifting his hand from his pocket, Harry opened it. He glanced down at the vial himself, watching the black slime explore the confines of its current cage. It turned his stomach to look at it again. He knew Peter would be mad, but he'd rather see his friend angry than dead. He closed his eyes. "I think so," he sighed. "I...I hope so."

"Then please." Aunt May's voice cut out. Harry dared not open his eyes, knowing if he saw her crying he'd tear up. He bowed his head a moment, then opened his eyes and unscrewed the cap. He shook out the vial over Peter's hand and watched the blob of black fall. It recoiled at first, writhing away from Peter's hand. Harry nudged it back with the edge of the vial and tried not to cringe as it finally took. Fingers of black crawled up Peter's arms and disappeared. Harry glanced up. Aunt May pulled back and laid Peter down again, but continued to brush a hand through his hand. Her raw eyes turned to Harry.

"When will we know it's working?"

Harry watched Peter closely, the bile working its way into his mouth. He choked it back and gripped his hands tighter into fists, praying. "When he wakes up, I think. I don't...I don't know, Aunt May."

She bowed her head and Harry looked away. Her hand rested on his shoulder. "That's okay. You tried. That's what counts. Just please...don't lie to me ever again. If it concerns Peter, I need to know."

He nodded slightly. "Yes, ma'am." His eyes trailed to Peter's still face. He held himself back from touching his best friend's arm again. Every fiber of his body wanted to shake Peter or to yell at him to wake up. He just wanted to see his best friend's smile again. His chest felt like a black hole sucking away all the feelings, and every memory that could be into the dark abyss of reality. 

Then Peter gasped. He recoiled, his back arcing a few inches before he slid back and grabbed at his chest. His hazel eyes cracked as black slid through them and cleared. Then they closed and opened again with their normal color. He squinted up, confusion and finally pain twisting his face. He rolled his head from Harry to Aunt May. "W-What. Aunt May?" 

Harry grabbed his shoulder to keep him from moving. "Yeah, she's here. Peter, she knows. I told her," he half-lied. "You took quite the hit."

"Hey, Peter," Aunt May said with a gentle smile. "Don't move, alright? You need to rest."

Peter's head rolled between the two of them again. He coughed and shuddered, leaning his head back. "Yes, ma'am..." he murmured. His eyes opened towards Harry and he stared up at his best friend for a moment. "Harry. Don't feel so. Good..."

"I know, Pete. Just rest. Like I said, you took a pretty severe hit." Harry patted his shoulder and moved away. He retrieved a blanket and laid it over his friend, sighing. His shoulder slumped with relief, but his fist remained hidden in his pocket. He didn't know when it might take effect. Venom and Spider-Man hadn't worked well last time, but it was all he'd had. He tried to keep a thin smile on his face for Peter, though. Aunt May was hovering, though, so Harry kept back some.

Aunt May tucked the blanket around him. "You need to get home and rest, young man. A good night's sleep, and some painkillers. Are you in pain?"

"A. Little." Peter coughed. He turned his head to Aunt May and closed his eyes. "Home. Sounds. Good..." 

"Home it is then," she said and brushed back his hair. Her brow still furrowed in concern but she looked up at Harry and nodded. Her lips moved, mouthing out a "thank you". 

Harry nodded back and moved over there. "Aunt May is right. Let's get you home," he said. 

Peter nodded and curled up onto his side. "Home..." he murmured. "Okay."

Harry's fist unclenched mildly and he smiled, patting Peter's back. "Yeah. Home."

\-----

Peter groaned as he laid back down in his bed with the aid of Harry and Aunt May. His body throbbed but he sank into the covers. The ride home was a vague memory. Everything over the past hour was, actually. He didn't know quite what had happened before he woke up, or much afterward. He simply remembered Harry and Aunt May's concerned looks of relief as he'd opened his eyes. Before that, everything was Jameson's jeering, and a pounding headache.

"Sleep well, Peter," Aunt May whispered in his ear. She pressed a kiss to his head and tucked the blanket closer to his neck. Peter turned his head after her, but she was already walking away. Only Harry stood there, looking down on him with the same odd look of deep worry. A thin smile spread over his face, though. Peter's brow furrowed mildly at the sight. 

"Yeah, rest up Pete. I hope you feel better in the morning." Harry turned to go. 

Peter worked a hand out from under the blanket and reached after him. He coughed and turned onto his other side, opening his heavy eyes a little wider. "Harry..." 

Hesitating, Harry stared at the ground then turned. He stared back as if to say 'yeah?'.

Letting his hand fall, Peter retreated under the blanket. "What. Happened?"

Shifting, Harry took a step back closer. He came back over and sat on the edge of the bed with his hands in his pockets. His chin lifted as he stared at the ceiling. "It wasn't good, Pete. You got in a fight and Jameson hit you hard. I didn't think you were gonna get back up. I had to," Harry's gaze lowered and he turned a shoulder away. "I had to bond you with the V252 again."

"--Venom?" Peter asked hoarsely. "Why?" He tried to lift his head but ended up leaning back further. 

Glancing back without looking up, Harry sighed deeply. His body hunched forward. "You wouldn't have woken up otherwise. I was scared, Pete. I needed you to wake up. It's just until we find a better fix. Or until you feel better. You'll be fine." He glanced up with a weak grin of assurance that quickly disappeared. 

Peter reached out and touched his arm. "Thank you, Harry."

Harry's eyes trailed to Peter's hand. He nodded. "Anything for my best friend." He got up and turned again. "Now rest. You need to get better."

"C-Copy that." Peter closed his eyes and coughed lightly. He tucked his chin under the blanket and curled up. His skin crawled under the covers, though. Faintly he heard Harry close the door, plunging the room into darkness. He swallowed a bit and opened his eyes again. While his body throbbed, he found sleep impossible. Instead, his bleary eyes searched the room, waiting for the rage that would come. He remembered last time he'd bonded to Venom. Goosebumps rose on his skin at the idea of such burning hatred. He felt his stomach twist into knots. Parting his lips, weakly he whispered into the darkness. "Venom?"

 _Parkerrrr..._ Venom's voice swelled to a hiss inside his mind. Peter shuddered and clutched the blankets closer, looking around the room. He knew he couldn't see the symbiote. Not while they were bonded, but he knew the ugly face it had. He could almost see it before him in the black air. 

"W-We cool?" he murmured quietly, quaking. 

Venom didn't answer at first. Then Peter felt the deep ingrained rush that accompanied the symbiotes movements and thoughts. He felt the blackness penetrating his mind but it didn't take over. It receded after a moment. _For now. Harry Osborne requires me to play...nice. Until the time is over._

If it had been human, Peter half-imagined the symbiote scowling in disdain. He exhaled gently--quickly regretting the pain it brought--and nodded. "Okay. Whatever that means."

_Go to ssssleep Parker._

"Going," Peter whispered. He shut his eyes and tugged the covers up to his eyes. He pressed his face into the soft material and pressed his mind into the darkness. Exhaustion quickly claimed him, winning out over his fear for the time being. He quickly slipped into slumber, Jameson's haunting face rising into his nightmares.


	4. Chapter Four

Pain crept into Peter's head as he cracked his eyes to the sunlight outside his window. Turning his face away, he dragged the blankets over his face. Darkness replaced the light, but the pain remained, throbbing through his whole body. After a moment, he slowly sat up and rubbed at his sore arms. His hands crept up to his messy brown hair as he rubbed over his temples and closed his eyes blearily.

 _You ssshould lay down..._ The same seedy voice whispered in his ear.

Peter jumped, jerking back from himself as he tangled in the covers. His leg caught in the folds of the blanket. He slipped, twisting as he raised an arm and fired off a quick web at the window to catch himself. It stuck, stretching taut and holding him inches off the ground. Still, he shook his head and carefully, slowly, pulled himself back up onto the bed. He broke off the web and stuffed it in the corner of the window, hoping Aunt May wouldn't notice. With a sigh, he then flopped back with a sore groan. His eyes stared up at the ceiling, though, searching its emptiness.

"Y-You're actually there?" he whispered. Flexing one hand, he looked down at the bruises and winced at himself. So it had been real, and not some sort of fever dream on the bus. Jameson. He'd actually fought Jameson and--and lost. Oh goodness, I hope no one got hurt...other than me of course.

 _Yesss, I am "actually" here. I never lefttt,_ Venom said.

Peter ran a hand through his hair, inhaling until he felt his ribs shift. He stopped but left his fingers tangled in his messy hair. "I really thought that was a dream. Oh, man. Harry's gonna kill me."

"Peter?" Aunt May's voice floated up the stairs. Peter sat up straight at the sound of her footsteps. He looked down at himself, realizing he might not have changed out of his Spider-Man costume. His hand went to his chest and stopped. "My clothes? I guess I forgot more than I thought..." he murmured. His hand drifted to his head as the door swung open. Aunt May stepped inside with a tray of warm food. She set it on his desk and hurried over there, her brow creasing as she sat down.

"How do you feel? Are you okay? You've got some bruises..." Her fingers brushed back his hair and she poked at his cheeks, inspecting his bedraggled figure as Peter sat there. He blinked tiredly, the urge to hug her and collapse into her arms washed over him. He laid his head on her shoulder after a moment.

"Just sore. I think--"

"I know, Harry told me everything. He said you were in a fight. A bad one. I'm so sorry..." She hugged him, squeezing tight. Peter tensed in surprise--and a little bit of pain--but relaxed into it. He wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes.

"I'm alright, though," he lied. "Thank you for looking out for me."

She pulled back and nodded firmly. "Of course. Now you stay right there and you'll eat in bed," she turned and scooped up the tray. However, she paused before setting it down with a stern stare. "Don't you get used to this, though. It's only until you feel better." Her glare melted into a smile easily, though, and she set the tray down.

Peter nodded, but he smiled with a soft chuckle as he looked down at the syrup oozing wheat cakes. Aunt May could be serious, but he knew she was just good intentions all over. It was one of the many reasons he loved her. No better person could've existed. He was sure that's why Uncle Ben had married her of all the women on earth. He looked up with gratitude shining in his eyes. _I'm just as lucky to have her as my aunt,_ he thought and picked up his fork. "Thank you, Aunt May. I'm sure this'll cure me," he joked.

She settled her hands on her hips and shook her head. "You just get some rest, Peter." She pressed a kiss to his head. He shrank back with a sheepish smile and wrinkled his nose, but didn't shy away too far. Aunt May just drew back and crossed her arms over her chest. She gave him a bit of a worried smile, then nodded and turned around. Again, she paused at the door with a truly stern look this time.

"Don't you leave that bed, mister. I'll be back to check on you."

"Yes, Aunt May," he said. "Not going anywhere."

Nodding, she turned and closed the door. Peter looked down at his breakfast, sticking his fork in the top wheat cake. He took a small bite, chewing absently. He remembered Jameson showing up. Remembered the royal beating he'd taken. He remembered the ball of energy he'd seen hurtling towards him and the faintest hints of Harry's voice in the back of his head. He tapped the fork against his lips, staring out of the window. There were some faint memories of Aunt May and Harry in an Oscorp lab and carrying him to his room. A shudder pressed through his body as he remembered the ghastly voice from the night before, though. Worse, the voice that was still there this morning. _Venom._

 _Yesss,_ the symbiote hissed in the back of his head. Goosebumps crawled over Peter's skin as he shuddered to hear that tone. He set the fork down and hugged his bruised body.

"What are you here for?" he asked, eyes skimming over his room. He didn't see his suit anywhere. Looking down, he curiously tugged back the collar of his shirt. There it was, the old red and blue. He sighed and looked at his breakfast. His stomach flipped and he just set it aside.

 _Made a dealll. Harry Osssborn wantsss me to protect you from yourssself._ Peter could almost feel the symbiote writhing inside of him. His eyes were drawn to his arm as he spotted the tendrils of black. He clenched his fist and tried to box the alien up in his mind. The tendrils of black retreated but the unsettling sense of wrong in his gut remained like a snake coiled and ready to strike. He exhaled and coughed a little bit.

"Protect me. From. Myself, why?" he wheezed out, pressing a hand to his chest. That pain definitely hadn't been there the night before. He leaned back on his pillows, pulling the blanket back to his chin.

 _Asssk him yourssself. I don't know,_ Venom spat. Peter cringed at the strike of annoyance flooding his own mind. He grit his teeth and stared out the window, refusing to let the anger and fear take him over again. His fingers dug into the blanket as he inhaled and exhaled slowly. He'd dealt with Venom before. The thing fed off anger, not confusion, and there was plenty of confusion tumbling through his mind. His own coughing brought him back to reality, though. Shivering, he sank back down and curled up. On the edge of his dresser, his phone buzzed off the edge. It tumbled to the floor. Peter sluggishly reached out and caught it with a web, drawing it into his hand. He peered at the caller ID. Harry.

He clicked the green button and held it to his hear. "Hey," he said thinly and ducked his nose under the blanket.

"Hey, there you are. Sorry, I already called a couple of times to see if you were up. How do you feel?" Harry's words strung together into a worried sentence. Peter's brow furrowed a little as he clutched the phone to his ear.

"I'm...I've had better days. Jameson didn't go easy, but I'll be okay. Hey--"

"--Peter it was bad. Very bad. Really, you probably don't remember the half." Harry sighed and Peter could just picture him standing there running a hand through his hair, probably pacing his top tier office as Oscorp. It almost made him laugh how much Harry acted like a stuck up rich old dude sometimes. Laughing made his chest hurt worse, though, so he suppressed the chuckle and coughed into his hand.

"Harry, I have a question," he breathed softly. "What happened?"

Silence and empty static reigned over the phone line. After clearing his throat, and taking a couple of anxious steps loud enough for Peter to hear, Harry answered. "Um. Long story on that one...Peter, you nearly died. Jameson hit you with that energy burst and, I don't know what it did to you, but you weren't gonna last. I, uh, I was just scared Pete. I can't lose my best friend."

Looking down and flexing his bruised hand, Peter nodded a little and let his eyelids slip to half-lidded as he stared at the floor. How Venom fit into that picture, he didn't know, but he had to believe Harry had good reason. He sighed. "I didn't realize. I'm sorry I put you through that..." he mumbled, his eyes dulling mildly. His fingers fell open as he relaxed his arm.

"Just don't do it again. Promise me, Pete. Don't ever let it get that far."

"Harry you know I can't--"

"Promise me, Pete. Right now." Harry's tone was raw, and his voice a near whisper.

Closing his eyes, Peter sighed. "Harry, you know I can't promise something I have little to no control over. I promise I'll be safer, though, okay?" he frowned and opened his eyes. "Maybe you could lend me some of that body armor of yours?" he said after a moment, trying to bring a bit of light back into the conversation. He quirked a hopeful smile at no one, hoping Harry could hear it in his tone.

"Pete, this is serious," Harry snapped. "You could have died. I honestly think you might have..."

Sighing, Peter just curled his knees into his stomach. He coughed and cupped the phone in his hand. "I know, I know it's serious. But really, maybe this is a good time to work on the suit and upgrade it so it's not so susceptible. We could do it together, say, this afternoon?"

"I can't, Pete. I have stuff, and you need to rest. Just sleep, heal, okay. I can hear it in your voice. You're not well. Give it a rest, at least until you're healed," Harry sighed. Peter could hear him pacing the room again and realized the anxiety Harry had to be under. If he was right, there was a good chance he'd really thought he'd lost his best friend. Peter's lips compressed thinly at the thought. He knew what grief was like. Harry knew too. _I can't put him through that..._

"Alright," he said. "I'll rest. Thank you..."

"Don't worry about it," Harry answered tensely. "Rest, I'll call you later."

"Talk to you then."

"Yeah, bye." Harry hung up. Peter pulled the phone from his ear with a heavy cough as he set it under his pillow. He rested his face in the pillow, shivering with a sudden chill that gripped his sweaty body. His mind felt a little fuzzier than before, but he figured he was exhausted. Closing his eyes seemed like too much effort, though. He looked down at the floor. "Venom, you there?"

 _I am here, Peter Parker,_ the symbiote answered. _What do you want?_

"Well, while I'm not sure how it seems you saved my life. So, I suppose I owe you an apology and...a thank you. For saving me at least."

 _Apology accepted,_ Venom said.

Nodding, Peter tucked his arms against his chest. He felt his eyelids droop and didn't fight them. They didn't fall completely shut, though, and he stared at his messy room through a blurred vision. Deep down, he wondered if Venom could see all he could. If the symbiote felt the same. They were, after all, one again.

His eyes drifted a moment before settling on his computer. It lay open, still computing the last DNA sequence he'd left it on. His eyes widened as he shot up. A groan escaped his lips as renewed pain spiked through his body. Still, he reached out and caught the edge of the laptop and barely managed to pull it over to him. Then he sank back into a slouch against his pillow, rubbing the grogginess from his eyes as he stared past the program and at the clock in the lower right hand. "Gwen's gonna kill me for not getting this done..." he mumbled, rubbing his face.

 _Who is Gwen?_ Venom demanded.

Peter bit his lip and stared at the DNA sequencer, which was crawling forward. It should've been done by now if he'd actually put in the work to fix the program bugs and get it running the night before. But no, even in all that free time, he ended up back in the same predicament as always. Peter ran a hand through his hair. It had to be the Peter Parker luck, or rather, lack thereof. "Gwen is someone in my school," he told Venom absently after a moment. He put his hands to the keyboard and pulled up the HTML for the program, hunching forward. His ribs ached and he leaned back again, gritting his teeth.

_Why are you concerned about her?_

Peter gestured to the program, not actually sure if Venom could see it or not. "Well, we were supposed to work on a project together. A project that's kinda sorta due today. Aaand...I haven't finished it yet, which means she'll have to share the failing grade. I don't know how she doesn't hate working with me yet," he sighed and started to edit the code as quickly as possible. A little spark of hope remained. The class the project was for wasn't until 3 pm. If he could just get it tweaked in that time, they'd be good to go. _And maybe then Gwen won't hate me as much,_ he thought to himself.

 _She probably already hates you,_ Venom said blankly after a moment. _You're a loser._

"Hey," Peter retorted with a hurt look of disdain.

 _It's true,_ Venom stated. _You're weak, no physical strength. You are running late. You're a loser._

Mumbling under his breath, Peter mocked the tone and just hunched forward to engross himself in his work. He edited a couple more lines of HTLM when he heard the door crack open. His head shot up, sending a sore pain down his back. He winced and looked to the door in a more gentle fashion. His look of pain quickly become a sheepish smile as he noticed Harry standing there with his arms crossed, though.

"Aunt May said you were resting," Harry stated. He ambled across the room, hands in his pockets. "You don't seem to be."

Peter looked down at his computer and shrugged. "I'm...not out of bed? I'm just trying to finish up a little project. Won't hurt anything," he offered with an innocent look.

Harry shook his head. "You don't know how to stop do you? C'mon Pete, Gwen can handle herself. She's probably already done everything you were gonna do and more. No offense, but she does work a little faster than you."

Chuckling mildly, Peter looked down. "Yeah, you're right. I just thought maybe I could contribute a little..."

"Don't worry about it. I told her what happened, and...she saw sort of," Harry said, shaking his head. "I informed Max that you're kinda out of commission too. He said you can make up the project later. Alright?"

Peter's eyes drifted to the computer and then he nodded, setting it to the side. "Alright."

Harry sat down on the end of the bed and leaned forward, hands steepling in his lap as he glanced over at Peter. "I just came by to see how you were doing," he said after a minute. His eyes drifted to the floor as his fingers began twisting together.

Looking over and down at his clothing strewn floor, Peter frowned a little bit. He could feel the mood of the room sink into his chest like a heavy smog as the friendly lightness left without a word. His eyes trailed to his hand, thinking of the monster inside of him. The monster Harry had put there. Peter knew his best friend rarely did anything without good reason, but he was struggling to find a good reason for this. "I'm fine," he answered curtly after a moment.

"You're sure?" Harry almost whispered. "Pete you were--"

"I'm fine," Peter said firmly. He curled his fingers into a fist and shoved his hand under the blankets, refusing to look back at Harry. Inside him the questioned gnawed at his stomach--that could also be hunger as the wheat cakes were still barely touched. He tightened his jaw, then forced himself to relax, looking back up. "Why'd you do it? You knew I'd find out as soon as I woke up."

Harry's eye's never left the floor. He sighed and ducked his head, rubbing through his hair. "I don't know, Pete. I panicked. He was...the last good option."

Peter's hand tightened back into a fist under the covers and he shook his head. "There's nothing good about it," he almost snapped. He inhaled deeply, reminding himself that Venom fed on his own anger. _It's not Harry's fault. He knows what he's doing, there's a good reason,_ he repeated mentally. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, holding until his aching chest hurt, then he exhaled slowly and softly.

"Pete," Harry didn't move, "You were dying. I couldn't lose you too, okay."

Bowing his head, Peter nodded as the anger dissipated from his chest finally. He found breathing easier again and just sat forward. "I'm sorry, Harry. I should've never put you in that position."

Shaking his head violently, Harry sat up. "No, you couldn't have known. Pete, if I hadn't been there you might be dead, so don't apologize for roping me into this. I'm glad I was there to save you, I just wish there had been a better way."

Lifting his hand in front of his face, Peter tried not to shiver at the thought of that black symbiote writhing in his veins. He sank back with a chill and nodded. "We'll figure it out," he murmured. "We always do."

Harry looked back at him and nodded solemnly. A thin smile spread on his worried expression, though, and he got up. Resting his hand on Peter's shoulder, he agreed. "Yeah, we always do. Get some rest. Don't do anything stupid. I'll be back after class."

"Me, do something stupid, never?" Peter quipped thinly.

Harry laughed, but it was quiet and thin as he left the room and closed the door behind himself. Peter watched him go and as soon as the footsteps faded, he struggled to sit back up and reached for his computer. His body ached, but he had to know what happened. No doubt the Daily Bugle with have something on this. Spidey gets beat up by Jameson? They'll be all over it. He put in the search and hit enter, waiting as the results loaded up. His eyes drifted to the first live video and he clicked it, turning the sound down. A chill gripped him followed by a deep heat flash and he hugged himself, shivering warmly as the video loaded in front of his eyes. He hunched forward, eyelids drooping with sudden exhaustion as he coughed. His chest still ached deeply but he curled up a bit and kept his eyes glued to the screen. The video started to play, Jameson's unmistakable voice yelling about how much of a menace Spider-Man was. The track sounded old, though. Peter frowned, watching on as a completely different reporter appeared in place of Jameson. Leaning in, he listened keenly.

"Following last nights debacle with Spider-Man and the city's very own reporter J. Jonah Jameson, the Daily Bugle reports its top journalist and head reporter will now be stepping down from his position after the battle. More information on his step-down will be available later, but for now, back to live current events in New York's recent political debates..."

The voice was drowned out in the background by representatives speaking over one another in a live feed from the senatorial building. Peter paused the video and hunched further over the keyboard, placing his chin in his hands. His lips parted slightly. "What?" Jameson was stepping down? That couldn't be right. They'd glossed over everything. No mention of the fight beyond a passing comment, no comment on the part Jameson played. No "Spider-Man's a menace" spiel. Just politics. He leaned back, setting his laptop back to the side and curling up under the blanket. His whole body shuddered mildly and he sneezed. "I don't get it," he mumbled, staring at the video. Lazily, he reached out and hit play on the live feed. It buffered and caught up. Again he sneezed, aching deeply. His eyes closed a moment as a wave of nausea and exhaustion washed over him. Maybe Harry had been right about the resting bit.

Screaming erupted beside him. "Get out! What is that ugly thing!" Voices melded into one, screeching and crying. Peter's eyes slid open blearily and it took a moment before he could focus on the source of the sound--the live video feed.

Pushing himself onto one elbow, he leaned over the computer and squinted at the screen. It was waving wildly but in one pass, he spotted the gaping hold in the wall of the senatorial building. It was the villain from the night before. At least it looked like it in the blurred silhouette. His eyes raised past the video feed to the window.

 _No, you were told to stay put,_ Venom protested in his head. _You are sick, don't be an idiot._

Peter shook his head and glanced around his room before rolling up the sleeve of his shirt. So he did have his costume still on underneath. He breathed out a sigh of relief and tugged his shirt off. It took more work than normal, but with a little panting and groaning, he got it and slowly rose from the bed. His legs threatened to collapse, but he struggled over to where his backpack sat on the floor. "Please be in here..." he moaned, unzipping the bag. Another relieved breath escaped his lips as he grabbed the mask and tugged it on. Heat washed over him making his skin clammy. He struggled back over to his bed.

 _Peter Parker you idiot! Stop!_ Venom yelled in the back of his head. Peter felt the symbiote recoil within him, but he set his jaw and ignored the sludgelike feeling in his gut.

He grit his teeth and crawled slowly into the window, looking out. "I might be an idiot," he panted, shivering. "But I'm an idiot that saves people." He shot a web at the adjoining house and took a deep breath.

 _Moron!_ Venom yelled.

"Yup," Peter exhaled and jumped.


	5. Chapter Five

_You are a moron, Peter Parker!_

Gritting his teeth as he tried to recover from another swing, Peter angled his body towards the roof of the next building, panting. "Maybe..." he said and landed hard. His knees gave and he rolled onto his side. "Ow..." 

_Stubborn,_ Venom sneered in his head.

Pushing himself to his feet again, Peter limped to the edge and glanced down. In the alleyway, he spotted the hole the villain had blown in the side of the senatorial building. Bricks and rubble-filled the alleyway. "Good news is, if I fall, I'll have something to cushion my descent," he quipped to himself. He laughed and stopped as the aching in his chest returned. Doubling over a little, he put his hand to his chest. "Bad idea."

 _This was all a bad idea,_ Venom said.

Peter ignored him and sucked in a sharp breath. It hurt, but he reached out and shot a web at the adjacent building anyway. "Here goes," he whispered and jumped off. The fall wasn't nearly as graceful as most, but he made it down and grasped the side of the building at the last moment, ensuring his hands and feet stuck before actually letting go of the web. He exhaled and coughed, shuddering. Briefly, he laid his head against the brick wall and listened to the pounding of his heartbeat in his skull. Exhaustion surged through him and the urge to let go of the wall, to fall into the thin air and just fall asleep. 

_Wake up!_

His head snapped up and he jerked a little but held to the wall. In the back of his head, he heard Venom growl something rather nasty and hiss a little. "Sorry..." he said. He glanced down, swallowing at the sight of all the sharp bricks. After a moment his pulse calmed, though, and he moved towards the hole in the wall. Peeking his head inside, he grimaced at the sight of four senators pinned behind their desks and several more huddled in the corner. The villain had the main speaker in his grasp, though. If not for the fogginess in his head, he would've made out what the villain was yelling, but everything else was ringing too loudly. _I don't need to hear him to know it's not good, anyway._

He shot a web past the villain's head and let go of the wall, arcing down into the room. "Hey! I'm pretty sure you're supposed to talk to your local senator in their office, not crash the party," he yelled as he planted both feet in the villains back. "That's just bad manners." 

Reeling, the villain let go of the senator. Peter shot a web and caught the man, flashing him a thumbs up before he took another swing around. His arms felt strained, but he grit his teeth harder and forced a smile behind his mask. "What, no answer? I can't make all the witty comebacks here." 

He angled his foot for the villain's head and sailed straight through empty air, missing as the villain dodged. The web snapped. Peter's head shot up to see tiny disks cut through the web, exploding seconds later. He yelled, thrown to the ground by the impact. The concrete bit into his skin and he grunted, suppressing a loud moan of pain. _If my ribs weren't broken before they definitely are now..._ he thought, pressing a hand to his chest and struggling up. 

_Yes, they are. Very badly. You cannot win this._

"Shut up," Peter snapped at Venom and limped to his feet. He grimaced, tracking the blurry image of the villain as the man came flying at him. Standing there, Peter watched the villain grow larger in his vision. He tried to pull his lethargic body forward. Faintly, in the back of his hazy mind, he heard someone yelling at him. Cheering him on? He couldn't make out the man's exact words. His gaze flickered back to the villain and widened. Two disks hit the ground in front of him. His arm lifted to shoot another web. Then the disks exploded. 

Slamming into an overturned table, Peter gasped and coughed. He tasted blood rising to his teeth and curled up on instinct, shuddering. Then he slid off and down to his feet, falling into a crouch as he gripped his aching ribs and steadied himself with a hand of the table. The world spun mildly, leaving everything in a dizzy blur. He took a step and then grabbed at the table again. "B-Bad idea..." he mumbled to himself. His eyelids drooped. Heat flashed through his body, surprisingly unaccompanied by pain. Cold followed and he coughed again. His legs tried to give out beneath him. He glanced down, touching his head with his free hand. 

_Peter Parker, you must return home,_ Venom said. _You will lose._

Shaking his head, Peter steeled himself and straightened up to the room. His eyes scanned the blur of colors, seeking for the telltale blue and purple streak that would be the villain. "No, I told you, we have to save these people." 

_You are saving no one!_

Compressing his lips, Peter frowned and tried to push Venom's voice further into the back of his mind. He squinted. Then his readout picked up on a little red triangle zooming towards him. It was coming on fast. He let go of the table and let instinct take over as he shot a web at the ceiling and leaped. His knee collided with the man's gut, at least he thought it was the man's gut. His own churned but he kept moving, twisting and throwing the villain to one side. "I...have...to get home. So lets. Finish. This. Quick," he bit out, chest heaving as the villain smashed into the wall. Peter swung after him, shooting another web aimlessly in the last direction he remembered the villain being flung. Then a hand grabbed his shoulder and jerked him off course. He yelled. 

_"What, am I putting a damper on_ your day?" the villain sneered. "Too bad, kid."

 _Kid?_ Peter's mind reeled at the comment but before he could retort he hit the wall and slid to the floor. Desperately panting for the air knocked from his lungs, he lifted his head and then dropped it to the floor again. A groan escaped his lips and he wrapped his arms around his body, curling into a tight fetal position. Coughing, he spat the blood welling up behind his teeth into the fabric of his mask. "You. Were. Right..." he mumbled to Venom. "I can't. Take. Anymore."

 _I warned you,_ Venom said. _Moronic child. I will finish this._

"Mmm?" Peter shivered as another feverish chill gripped his body. He closed his eyes and felt ice slide through his veins to envelop his skin and body. Cracking one eye, he found the word had darkened and he was rising from the floor without moving a muscle. Then his stomach flipped again and he bit back bile again, closing his eyes. A deep pounding ache settled into him as his body moved, unaided by him.

 _Rest, Peter Parker,_ Venom's voice growled louder inside his head. _I will take care of this one._

Peter nodded as best he could from inside the symbiote and closed his eyes. The world went dark, as Venom took full control.

\-----

"What's this?" snapped the villain, scowling under the mask that obscured his eyes.

Venom's lips curled into a murderous smile, but he didn't answer. Lifting one arm, he shot a web past the man and ran at the wall, darting up several feet before launching off and at the villain. He slammed into the man's chest with far more force than Peter Parker ever could, driving the villain down into the floor. Tables cracked and crumbled, dust kicking up into the air. Venom's tongue lolled out, licking hungrily at his teeth.

"What are you?" The villain yelled, squirming helplessly. 

"We are Venom," Venom hissed. He grinned wider and lifted the man into the black ooze that comprized him, trapping the villain. He threw him again, harder, into the ground. "And you are a nuisance!" 

A broken yell cut through the air, followed by silence. The villain didn't move. Venom walked up to the edge of the small crater and peered down at the unconscious life form. He shot a couple of webs at it. If the memories inside Peter Parker's brain were correct, the man should be left to the police. Venom scowled a little and turned away. Peter Parker was far too naive, but he would play the role for now. The spider-child wasn't well, and while Venom had little empathy for him, Harry Osborne still held the only substance on the planet that would destroy him for good. So it seemed he was resigned to abiding by Osborne's silly games for now and take care of his friend. He hissed into the open air, though, and stalked off. 

Stepping outside into the alley, he felt Peter writhing mildly inside. The boy was sick and running a fever. His physical health was severely compromised. He didn't have the strength to sustain Venom like this for long. Certainly not long enough to get both of them home. Venom retreated, allowing Peter to collapse to the pavement. He crawled back out to the boy's arm, though, and tapped at the headset Peter wore inside his suit. A pause passed, then a faint ringing in the back of Peter Parker's mind. The boy didn't wake. Venom didn't need him to as he slithered up to Peter's face, covering it.

"Hello?" Harry asked his tone tense. "Peter, where are you and why are you calling me from your suit?"

"Peter Parker is unconscious," Venom snapped. "Come get us."

"Wha--Venom?"

"Come get us!" Venom hung up and retreated again inside of Peter's mind and body. He felt the boy shift just briefly, moaning as fever clung to him like the smell of wet dog to a room. He recoiled into the further part of Peter's mind to sulk. _We are a moron._


	6. Chapter Six

"Don't move or you'll fall," Harry snapped at Peter as he ducked his head and took the corner. Peter still squirmed a little in his arms and quit moving. Harry held on tighter as he came to a landing in front of Peter's house and let the glider deactivate. Landing on his feet, he tried to absorb the impact into his knees so he wouldn't jolt his injured friend. Peter was coughing again, and Harry didn't trust him not to fall apart. He hurried up the steps and tried the knob. The door swung open. He let out a sigh of relief. Aunt May might trust people a little too much sometimes, but at least it meant they could come and go a little bit easier.

He glanced around and made a beeline for the stairs.

"Harry Osborne, what are you doing?" Aunt May demanded from behind him. He paused and glanced back over his shoulder to the right. 

"Which of us are you going to hate more? Me or Peter?"

She settled both hands on her hips and sank down into the left hip, her brows furrowing with a gentle glare. "Both of you. What happened?" Walking up, she reached out her arms as Harry turned and grimaced a little.

Her hand covered her mouth with a soft gasp, but she didn't lose her composure. Her forehead smoothed, brows rising with deep worry. After a moment she pointed past Harry and nodded. "Upstairs now. You can explain after."

"Thank you," Harry muttered, not wanting to admit he didn't know much beyond the fact that Peter could occasionally be a heroic idiot and he was looking very bad. Turning, he walked up the steps carefully and got back into Peter's room, laying him down. 

Peter moaned and twitched his fingers, but otherwise, he wasn't moving much. Harry could barely hear him rasping through the mask and he pulled it off quickly. Black veins clung to Peter's skin up to his neck and Harry knew it had to be Venom trying to keep his best friend alive. While he couldn't stand the creature that had once been V252, it was all he had. He bit his lip and grimaced a little, throwing the mask to the other side of the room and scanning the room. "Aunt May, do you have a first aid kit?"

She set one down on the desk. "It's not much, but yes, this is what I have. Is it enough?" She moved a little closer, sitting on the edge of the bed. Her fingers brushed back Peter's hair from his face. Harry frowned to see the sweat on his friend's brow and how his hair stuck to his flushed face. Peter was sick, and that couldn't be a good sign. He averted his eyes to the first aid kit and opened it up, shuffling through the materials. _Needles...bandages...pain meds...it's not extensive, but it should work?_ He glanced back at Peter. They needed to take him to a hospital, but they couldn't risk it. Even if the world knew who Peter Parker was when he was fifteen miles in the air shooting webs at villains, medical professionals couldn't be trusted with blood samples. The government wouldn't take kindly to having Spider-Man to experiment on, and Harry wasn't going to let some dimwitted government scientist chop up his best friend for his powers. He shuddered and realized he was still staring down at the medical kit. Lifting his head, he shook it and glanced back at Aunt May as she continued trying to soothe an unconscious Peter. Harry grabbed the pain killers and bandages along with a bottle of antiseptic as he walked over there.

"I'm not a medical professional, but I think this should take care of the external injuries. I can't do much for the internal without an actual doctor..." he admitted, glancing up at Aunt May. 

She nodded a little, peering briefly into his eyes before looking down. Her fingers continued their methodical brushing back of Peter's hair. "He's feverish, Harry. I know he's injured, but that wouldn't cause a fever would it?"

Harry began peeling off Peter's costume to get to the scratches and bruises on his chest. "I don't know..." he said as he worked to treat the scrapes and cuts. "I mean, if something was infected, I suppose he could get feverish, but everything should be clean. It's been one day and not even that." Harry wrapped up a couple of cuts on Peter's arms and gave him one of the painkillers. Some of the black veins receeded as Venom returned dormant. Harry cleaned it all up, frowning a little. He glanced back. "I suppose...it could be Venom?"

"Venom?" Aunt May asked, looking up. "The black substance?"

Harry nodded and threw out the wrappers and empty needles. He chewed his lower lip, sighing. "I mean, I don't know if Venom and Peter can really stay bonded like that long term? He could be making Peter sick..."

Aunt May's head shot up and her lips tightened into a thin line. "I thought Venom was helping."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "He is..." he said. "Peter simply may not be well enough to handle it."

The conversation lapsed as Aunt May looked down and sighed. She closed her eyes, fingers still tangled in Peter's hair. After a moment she nodded and just stood up. Harry helped her get Peter into comfortable clothes and laid back into bed so he could rest. He stood back as Aunt May tugged the covers up to Peter's chin and stepped back. Her eyes lifted, then she stepped around and closed the window, locking it. Then she turned around and left the room. 

Harry followed her out and closed the door behind himself, swallowing a bit as he looked back. Peter would be alright if he just stopped playing the hero for a little bit. Of course, his best friend would go out trying to save everyone he could, though. It was who Peter Parker was deep down in his core. Right now, though--Harry looked down and exhaled heavily. _Pete, it could get you killed. Please stop..._ He shook his head and started down the stairs after Aunt May.

She paused in the living room and gestured for Harry to sit down as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Alright, what happened?"

Taking a seat, Harry steepled his fingers and leaned forward onto his knees. He stared out of the window behind her, his eyes searching the street as cars passed by. "Honestly? I don't know..." he admitted. "Venom called me--yes he can do that--and said Peter had gotten himself injured. To me, it looked like he tried to go after someone and either failed or got beat up past his limit. He's still trying to be a hero."

Aunt May was pacing in a small circle, nodding with each of Harry's words. Her fingers were tight enough around her arms to turn her knuckles white, though, and she kept pacing over and over. "I should have watched him closer," she murmured. "I should've gone up there."

Harry looked up at her. "No, he would've slipped out anyway. He's Spider-Man. It's who and what he is because if I know Peter Parker I know that he wouldn't stand down for one second while someone needed help." He sighed and bowed his head. "Even if it finished him."

"He has to stop, Harry." She rubbed at her face, stopping and sitting down. "He has to stop."

Harry nodded a little but kept his eyes on the floor. "I know, but I can't stop him. You can't stop him. We'll just have to talk to him hen he wakes up."

Aunt May nodded a little bit and got back up. She glanced around aimlessly a moment before starting towards the kitchen. "Do you want something to eat? I was starting on lunch."

Harry's stomach flipped at the mention of food, but he looked up at Aunt May's creased and worried face. He nodded and slowly rose off the couch. "Yeah...a snack wouldn't hurt."

She nodded and he followed her into the kitchen. His eyes trailed back towards the stairs, though. His stomach tightened even more as he stepped past and into the kitchen. He knew Peter cared. He admired the amount of selflessness his best friend had for other people, but he needed him to slow down and think right now. He needed his best friend alive, even if it meant ignoring the world of pain for just a little while.

\------

_Parker...wake up._

Shivering, Peter cracked his eyes open for the second time that day. For a moment, everything blurred into one color wheel of white and gray before de-pixelating into the scene of his room again. He shifted his arm a little and felt the brush of his sweatshirt against his skin. He barely raised the blankets and looked down, finding he was dressed in sweatpants and a sweatshirt. His hand began to tremble and he dropped it, groaning as his skin came in contact with the bed again. Everything exploded with pain as he tried to move, so he laid still, rasping quietly over the edge of the blanket. 

Harry or someone must have found him. How? He wasn't sure. All he knew was he'd failed. Failed to stop the villain terrorizing those poor senators and tearing up the town. His fingers twitched and curled as he tried to lift his hand from under the blanket. It took far more effort then he remembered, but he got it and pushed the blanket off his chest. Bracing himself, he attempted to get his elbow under him to sit up. It failed and he sank back into the mattress further, gasping. A chill gripped his body for a couple of seconds before returning to the burning fever heat crawling along his skin. Sweat stuck to his forehead and he lifted his chin just a bit as he stared aimlessly out the window.

_Do not try it, Peter Parker. You are far to weak._

Coughing, Peter glanced down. "I wasn't--"

_I can see your thoughts._

Gritting his teeth a little, Peter hugged himself and turned his back on the window, slowly curling up to one side in hopes of warding off the fever chills. It didn't work, but at least his back ached less. "Fine," he said. A couple of birds flittered past, rising high into the air. His eyes trailed after them before falling to his shadowy reflection in the window itself. Gaunt cheeks speckled with his own blood peered from the half-formed image. His eye's looked bloodshot even at this distance. There was no denying his state. Still, his eyes rose to the open sky over him. A sigh escaped his lungs, causing the deep ache of pain to ease up.

 _You do not enjoy relaxing,_ Venom noted. 

Peter struggled back to the other side, not wanting to stare at himself or the world he couldn't reach any longer. He shrugged and regretted it, clutching his ribs gently as he sank into the mattress again. "I. Enjoy. Relaxing...but people need. My. Help," he panted, feeling sweat creep down the side of his face. His hair was all stuck to his skin and he tried to brush it back. Everything was hot, yet he shivered in the blankets. Closing his eyes, he focused on the hum of his overhead fan and the gentle breeze of the air conditioning. Aunt May and Harry were talking downstairs, or at least he assumed they were talking. He could pick out the clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen. Aunt May was cooking. She had to be stressed, or else she wouldn't be making a full meal in the middle of the day. 

His stomach clenched nauseously and he pressed a hand to his gut, gritting his teeth. He hadn't noticed earlier, but his body was demanding food, yet his fever had stolen whatever appetite he'd once had. The untouched wheat cakes were gone from this morning, probably removed by Aunt May. Inside himself, he could also feel Venom surge up and Peter gagged dryly, coughing. 

_Hungryyy, Peter Parker._

"No..." he moaned. "I don't want food."

_Hungry!_

Peter's eyes trailed to the door. He bit his lower lip, trying to create a barrier over his mouth should his stomach decide to flip again. He pressed himself up, though, working slowly from his arm to a sitting position. The world spun briefly and he waited until the black dots had faded before gingerly placing his feet on the ground. Again, the world swayed. Peter shot a web at the wall and the door, stretching it taut before using the thin line to guide himself to the door with some security he wouldn't fall. Fumbling, he closed his eyes and searched for the doorknob. He paused on finding it, though. Stairs laid beyond the door. How was he going to make it down the stairs if he could barely walk? "This is a bad idea..." he mumbled to Venom and tried to turn around.

His hand caught the doorknob. _You will not fall. Hungry!_

Cracking his eyes, Peter stared at his hand as it death gripped the doorknob. He nodded and felt Venom slide back into his veins as he opened the door and staggered out. His hands went to the wall, then the banister, the slowly inched down the smooth wooden surface as he took one step at a time. He tried not to focus on the distance between him and the floor, his head spinning with each movement. Venom kept to his word, though, and Peter didn't fall. He stepped off the last step and exhaled heavily, leaning against the wall. His head was pounding worse than before, and he could both hear and feel the blood rushing through his entire body. He shivered and clutched the wall close, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the cool wallpaper. 

"Peter Benjamin Parker! What are you doing?" 

Aunt May's arms caught him up into a tight grip. Peter slipped back against her and looked up, working his eyes open. He parted his lips. "W-Wanted something. To eat," he said. His head hung forward after that as he coughed, tasting flecks of blood on his tongue. He resisted the urge to spit them onto the carpet, knowing Aunt May wouldn't want to clean it up later. 

Another pair of hands grabbed him from the front, steadying him again. "Pete!"

"C'mon, Harry, let's put him on the couch," Aunt May whispered tersely from behind him. Peter succumbed to their grip and let himself fall back as he was gathered up by the arms and legs. His entire body felt like lead sinking into the ground. While he knew he was moving, nothing felt real. It was all beyond him, and he was alone in some space unoccupied by anything else.

They set him on the couch and he coughed, remembering reality along with the pain it brought. His ribs were crying in pain and he pressed both hands to his chest, his fingers trembling as he shivered. He opened his eyes again just as Harry settled a blanket over him and Aunt May slipped off to the kitchen. Peter coughed over the side of the couch. He stared down at the floor. _So much for not getting blood on the carpet,_ he thought wearily.

 _When will the food arrive?_ Venom hissed.

Peter mentally swatted him away again and let his hand hang out from under the blanket. "Harry..." he whispered.

Harry sat down on the foot of the couch and stared down at him. His eyes sagged a little before he shook his head and stared at the floor. "Peter, you were supposed to rest."

"I. Had. To. Help. Them," Peter argued and leaned his head back again, gasping briefly. His fingers moved further up his chest to his collarbone and throat, trying to soothe the knot located somewhere between his throat and chest.

Harry shook his head again and stood up quickly. "No. You didn't have to help them, Peter. There are other heroes!"

Peter stared up at him. "Then. Where. Were. They?" he whispered.

Walking over, Harry crouched down and sighed. He leaned his head against the edge of the couch cushion and just growled in frustration. "Pete, you're my best friend. We've been over this. You nearly died, and I'm not letting you get yourself killed because you don't know how to get decent rest. So no more, got it? The world can turn on its own for a few hours without Spider-Man. It did it before, it'll do it now." He looked up.

Peter stared at him with pleading eyes, panting. "Harry...there weren't. Villains. Like this. Before Spider-Man."

Rubbing his face, Harry shook his head and stood up again. "Alright then, I'll concede. If there's an issue, I'll handle it, okay?" 

"Okay..." Peter nodded and leaned his head back again. He heard Aunt May coming back, though. She wasn't humming or singing like normal. The house was eerily quiet with the exception of Harry's pacing steps and the hum of the background electronics. 

Aunt May appeared in the edge of his vision with a bowl and she set it down before helping him prop up. She settled the tray and bowl in his lap after that and sat close. "Peter, can you eat?" she asked, her fingers picking away his sweaty hair from his brow.

Staring down into the soup, Peter nodded slowly after a moment. He reached for the spoon and his stomach flipped again, but he wasn't sick. He could feel Venom surging and writhing hungrily within him, but his mouth was dry and his throat felt closed. _I can't,_ he thought again, his fingers hesitating inches from the spoon.

"Peter, you okay?" Aunt May inched closer, tilting his chin up to look at her.

 _Eat!_ Venom growled, rising into Peter's mind and veins. A ravenous hunger consumed him and he grabbed the spoon, pulling his chin away from Aunt May as he nodded thinly.

"Fine," he whispered before taking several quick bites of the steaming soup. He gulped them down, fighting his own nausea. Venom's hunger quickly took over and did the job for him. Peter got down about half the bowl before the hunger began to subside, partially satiated. His own nausea returned and he stopped, letting the spoon fall onto the tray as he looked away and tried to settle back.

Aunt May whisked the tray off to the side and then sat close, wrapping her arms around him. Her fingers continued brushing gently through his hair. He was glad she wasn't rocking this time, though, as the soup settled unhappily in his stomach. He pressed his lips together tighter, trying not to feel queasy anyway. _Better?_ He thought to Venom, shivering against Aunt May.

 _For now. Your aunt is a good cook,_ Venom answered. 

"Thanks..." Peter whispered. 

Aunt May nodded, her chin brushing against his head. "Anytime," she said. 

Peter sank back against her, his aching bones and muscles relaxing limply. The pain stayed, but it grew less as he matched his breathing to hers and listened to the sound of her heart beating in his ear. It was a nice distraction from the monster inside his head and the throbbing in his own chest. After a couple of moments, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled his knees to his chest. She fixed the blanket around him and began to hum. 

The song was foreign to Peter, but he liked it. Just because she was humming it. He let each and every note float through his head as he settled warmly into the safety of her grip. No supervillains existed here. No evil. Nothing but the love of his Aunt May, the woman who had raised him. Maybe Harry was right. A little rest never hurt, and he didn't want to leave this behind for a long time. 

Coughing lightly, he buried his face in her shoulder. "I love you," he mumbled, unsure when had been the last time he'd said that. It felt like ages. Too long. 

She kissed his head. "I love you too, and you know I always will."


End file.
